


The Enemy of Myself

by flipflop_diva



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-17
Updated: 2018-08-17
Packaged: 2019-06-28 22:00:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15715917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flipflop_diva/pseuds/flipflop_diva
Summary: Eighth Year was supposed to be a good time for Hermione Granger. And then she found out Pansy Parkinson was her roommate.





	The Enemy of Myself

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SoulJelly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoulJelly/gifts).



“They’re getting rid of Houses?” Ron looked up from the letter he was reading that he had just taken off of Hermione’s owl with a horrified expression on his face, like he had never heard of something worse.

Hermione plucked the letter out of Ron’s hand with a haughty sniff. “I think it’s a great idea,” she said reasonably. “It will encourage more unity in the school.”

“Who cares about unity?” Ron said, his horrified look now changing to a flabbergasted one. “What about Quidditch and the House championship?”

“Really, Ron, are those really the only things you cared about at Hogwarts?”

“Yes!” he almost shouted.

Hermione just shook her head and wondered again why she ever could have entertained the idea that they might have worked out. They really were not a match at all.

•••

Her new room at Hogwarts was dark when she entered, but the green light emanating from what was obviously her roommate’s side of the room made her stop dead.

“No,” she whispered, as horrified as Ron had been when he had read her letter.

“Unfortunately for me, yes,” came a voice behind her, and she whipped around to find Pansy Parkinson standing there, a scowl across her features. She shoved past Hermione and strode over to her bed. “Of all the inane people to get paired with for a roommate.”

“This cannot be happening,” Hermione said, more to herself than Pansy.

“Maybe you’d have better luck talking to McGonagall.” Pansy rolled her eyes as she said the name of their new headmistress. “She practically slammed the door in my face.”

As she should, Hermione thought, but she just turned to her side of the room and tried to tell herself it couldn’t possibly be as bad as she feared.

•••

It was worse than she feared.

Pansy Parkinson was rude, messy, intolerable and absolutely someone who had no compassion for other people. And beyond that, Hermione felt like she could never get away from her. They had classes together, their meal times were together, they were in their room with each other for hours every night.

And then to top it off, Pansy — _Pansy_ of all people — was getting higher grades than her in two classes. And she absolutely delighted in making sure Hermione knew it.

“I can’t stand her,” Hermione hissed to Ginny one cold afternoon in October as they stood out of the lawn, shivering slightly.

“Really?” Ginny said, sounding almost indifferent. “Because you spend a lot of time staring at her.”

“I do not!”

“You really do.”

“Only because I wish she would disappear!”

Ginny shrugged. “Okay,” she said, and Hermione almost had the urge to rage at her too for not understanding.

•••

It all came to a head one night in November. Hermione was ready to pull her hair out, her piles of books and essays and quills piled high on her bed. Pansy, on the other hand, was lying on her bed, aimlessly casting spells here and there, making their lanterns flicker and their window curtains wiggle and changing a teacup that was on her bed into a canary and back again.

Finally, Hermione couldn’t take it anymore. She threw the book she was reading down on her bed and turned to Pansy.

“Can you just stop?” she practically shouted.

Pansy didn’t even look at her, but she did answer immediately. “No.”

“Can you go somewhere else then?”

Now Pansy did look at her. Her expression was cool, almost unreadable. “You want me to go somewhere else?” she asked.

“Yes!”

“Fine.”

“What?” For a moment, Hermione’s anger faded as fast as it came. Pansy crossed her arms over her chest, and then it was back, that smug expression that made Pansy look like the most beautiful girl in the world.

“Then make me,” Pansy said.

The rage came back, hotter and faster than ever. Before Hermione could even think through what she was really doing, she was out of her bed, racing the couple steps between her bed and Pansy’s and throwing herself on top of her roommate.

Somewhere, in the back of her mind, she thought maybe she was going to wrestle Pansy to the ground and force her out of the room, but then she was on top of her, and Pansy was underneath her, in a skimpy nightgown, and Hermione could feel their breasts pressed together, could feel Pansy’s intake of breath.

And then their mouths were together, lips and tongues battling for dominance as they snogged. Hermione felt Pansy’s hands wrap around her, holding her head in place and she struggled to do the same, finally maneuvering her own arms to grasp a handful of Pansy’s hair while her other hand gripped her upper arm.

But Pansy was surprisingly strong. One moment Hermione was on top of the other girl and the next she was underneath, trapped beneath Pansy’s weight as the kisses continued, but now Pansy’s hand was working its way under Hermione’s button-down shirt.

She gasped as Pansy pinched her nipple, her body automatically arching up. She gripped harder on Pansy’s hair, to get her to stop or maybe to not stop, she wasn’t really sure, but now Pansy’s other hand was trailing down Hermione’s body and — oh, Merlin — it was under the waistband of her knickers and now her fingers were rubbing between Hermione’s legs, hard and fast, and Hermione was wiggling, at once wanting more and wanting less.

Somehow Hermione felt trapped by Pansy’s mouth, her one hand on her breast and now her other hand between her legs, but instead of wanting to get free, she found herself opening her legs more.

“Just do it!” she huffed into Pansy’s mouth and tugged on her hair more, and then — yes — a finger was inside her.

And oh, Merlin, two fingers were inside her and Hermione was trying not to cry out but not succeeding as Pansy began to move her fingers, hard and fast and deep, and Hermione hadn’t even known she was wet but her knickers felt suddenly like they were soaking and her hips were undulating all over the place and she had never felt so turned on in her life.

And then a thumb rubbed over her clit and she was coming with a scream as Pansy continued her assault, and then Hermione was lying on Pansy’s bed, out of breathe, cum dampening her knickers and her pants, and Pansy sitting on her legs looking very pleased with herself.

“You still want me to leave?” Pansy asked, and she had the nerve to bring the hand that had been between Hermione’s legs to her mouth, slowly licking it off.

Hermione’s eyes darkened. “Yes,” she said. Then, “But only after I’m finished with you!”


End file.
